Missouri Girl
by Panja Mysy
Summary: Thrown into a hunter's life when her family was killed by a Striga, Beth Turner spends her time killing various monsters. But she soon finds out you don't have to work alone when she meets two brothers in a dingy motel parking lot.
1. Striga

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters on Supernatural, the story herein is strictly fictitious and from my own mind.**

**So this is my first Supernatural story and I'm not quite sure how it's going to turn out, so don't judge me too harshly! Also, it's been a long while since I've seen the first two seasons so I may forget some things. Enjoy!**

****

_The sound of the door opening in the foyer reached my ears, not a loud bang on the wall that the door usually made but a careful, silent squeak of the old hinges. Our house, an old farm house nestled in the center of four corn fields, had many quirks and creaky doors and windows and floorboards were just a few. _

_My mind, always a little bit more nervous at this time of night as I wandered around the kitchen gathering a midnight snack, automatically screamed at me to hide. I grabbed the butcher knife I had been using to slice off a piece of turkey from our dinner that night and backed carefully into the pantry, my eyes on the hallway the whole time. I quietly and carefully closed the pantry door but left a tiny crack to look out of, watching the doorway of the kitchen that led to the hallway where I could see the bottom of the stairway that led up to my parents room as well as mine and my big brother's. _

_Something, something I had never seen before, crept through my line of sight and I had to clap a hand over my mouth to hide the squeak of fear that crept up my throat. It was wearing a hooded cloak but the skin that I saw was pale and wrinkled and I felt a cold shiver run up my spine as my subconscious warned me of immediate and very real danger. _

_I wish now I had been quicker to take action. I swallowed a helpless sob as I saw it slowly begin to ascend the stairway. My mind was shrieking at me to do something, ANYTHING, but my body was frozen in place as I listened to the sound of creaking floorboards. I knew that it was at my brother's room when the creaking floor was silent and after an agonizingly long time the creaking started again and I knew it was going back toward my parent's room. When it grew silent again, my body finally responded to my mind and I slowly crept out of the pantry. Shaking head to toe, the knife in my hand feeling oddly heavy, I forced myself to the foot of the stairs and took a tentative step up, the squeak of the stair seemed to my frightened ears like a neon sign of my presence. _

_Somehow, God knows how, I made it to the top without alerting the creature at the top that I was there and I slowly approached my parents' room. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight I saw through that doorway and I will never forget it. The hooded figured was leaning over my mother's body and there was a strange sucking noise coming from it, my mother was twitching violently and her mouth was open in a silent scream and I thought I saw a silvery light coming from her and disappearing into the hooded face of the creature. My father was lying next to them and I felt bile rise in my throat when I saw his pale skin and the blank eyes staring at the ceiling with the horror of his last moments etched in his features. Something inside me snapped and everything became clear as day and I knew what I had to do. I crept through the doorway in a hunter's crouch, the knife gripped tightly in my right hand, and kept myself pressed close to the wall as I made my way around the room to get behind it. I knew I was too late to save my family and this knowledge just made my determination so much more firm. With a wild shriek of anger I threw myself right at the creature and buried the knife into where I guessed its spinal cord was just below the skull. I grinned in wicked satisfaction at the howl that issued from beneath the hood and I twisted the knife in a half circle which caused the howl to stop immediately and the figure went totally limp. _

_I stood by the bedside for what may have been hours, I'm not sure, with nothing but white blinding rage in my mind. When it finally faded, the situation hit me for the first time and I ran to my brother's room. His body was just like my parents, cold and lifeless. I closed his eyes to erase the horrible death stare from his handsome face and the gravity of my situation finally sunk in as I knelt next to my brother's body. I was alone. I had just witnessed the deaths of my entire family. And I now knew that the stories I had heard all my life about monsters and evil were true. And I knew I could not go on living the same with this knowledge._

_That's how I became a hunter._

Strigas. I HATE Strigas! But, oh, how I loved to see them drop dead at my feet with my knife jutting from their bodies. This was no exception.

"What was that!" the frightened little boy I had just rescued asked in utter shock. I bent down and yanked my Bowie knife from the Striga's neck and wiped it clean with a rag before sheathing it.

"It's called a Striga," I replied, knowing there was no point in sugar coating it, "They're fond of feeding on children. Not too hard to dispose of though."

The boy just looked at me with disbelief and fear.

"Who are you?" he asked, "How did you know what that was?"

I shook my head.

"Sorry, kid," I said, heaving the Striga's body up to a sitting position so I could shove it out the window to be burned, "I can't tell you that. Just know that you're safe and there's nothing more to worry about."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

I sighed with relief when I finally plopped down on the lumpy, filthy, cigarette-scented bed in my dingy motel room and threw my duffle bag on the ground next to it. This was my least favorite time of the day when it came right down to it. It was now, when there was no more threat to a life, no more monster to track and kill, that my mind had to focus on other things. Things such as my past and the possibility of not having much of a future. A hunter's life is a lonely life and humans were not made to be alone.

Tonight the topic running wild in my brain was this: could a hunter like me with a long-forgotten-by-name, numerous aliases, and no real home ever be anything but utterly alone? Was I even a person or was "hunter" the only word that applied to me anymore?

I hated this one. This thought was the worst. Because it was one that I could never answer no matter how long or hard I thought about it. And I wondered if any hunter out there ever had answered it.

I knew I couldn't even stay the night in this motel room so I forced myself to get up and gather my few belongings together. I jumped up into the bed of my tan colored 1983 Chevrolet Cheyenne and opened the rusty old tool chest that sat behind the cab. I scanned the arsenal inside for any missing items or damage to any weapons. Seeing nothing wrong, I laid the Bowie knife in its spot and slammed the toolbox shut before anyone happened to walk by and snoop then jumped down and climbed up into the driver's seat, slamming the creaky door behind me.

I smiled at the sound of the roar of the engine when I turned the key. This was our old farm truck, I had driven it through the fields so many times when I was young and innocent. It had been used to haul hay bales, to retrieve deer during hunting season, making trips to the local feed store, and hauling the tractors out of mud holes during the rainy season. It wasn't shiny and impressive, but I kept it running like it was brand new. The sound of country music flooded the cab and I sang along with Kenny Chesney as I backed out of the parking spot.

My heart jumped in my chest when a black car came roaring into the lot and nearly clipped my back end and I slammed on the breaks just in time. I was panting with shock and anger at the close call as I threw open my door and jumped down to confront the idiot who almost damaged my baby.

With a look I knew would wither grass, I approached the driver's side of the black Impala as I now recognized it to be to put the reckless teenager in his place.

"What is your problem, leadfoot!" I growled as the driver's side door opened and a leg dropped out, I wasn't even looking at the face in the window I was so pissed. "Why don't you watch where you're going? You came this close to taking my back end off!"

A laugh. He was _laughing_ at me! I saw red and clenched my fists in anger. Finally, the driver emerged from the car and I was a little bit softened when I saw how handsome he was. This was no teenager, this was a very large, very good looking man. But I shook that thought away and back to the fact he had nearly damaged my most prized possession.

"Keep laughing, see what happens," I threatened in a low voice.

"Calm down, I wasn't gonna hit you." He said, waving his hand in dismissal. He walked up to me and smiled a devilishly attractive smile, his large green eyes sparkling with mischief. "I wouldn't put my baby in danger."

I glanced behind him at the shiny Impala. 1967 model, I assumed from the look of it. I didn't blame him for taking pride in her.

"Well you could have fooled me," I hissed, still shaking slightly from the adrenaline dose I had just received. "What possessed you to tear in here like that!"

"I just really needed to take a piss," he said with a wink. I guess he really meant it because he turned his back on me and walked quickly into the motel lobby. I stood there dumbly, my jaw muscles twitching from unspoken words I was itching to yell.

I sighed and turned to go back to my truck when I heard the passenger door of the Impala creak open. I turned on my heel to take my unfinished anger out on whoever was foolish enough to get out at that moment. But my words didn't make it out of my throat because the figure that stepped out was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen in my life and I was stunned into silence.

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

**Well this is chapter one. It's not the best since I'm making up the plot as I go, but it will get better once I get all the characters introduced! **

**And this is not a Mary Sue, I promise. Give it a chance? Reviews are awesome!**


	2. Sam Winchester

**Here's Chapter 2, I'm going to try and get character development and introduction going full swing. **

**Hope you like it so far **

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

I was staring, I couldn't help it! This large, beautiful man walked out from behind the car and approached me confidently. I scanned this gorgeous individual from the very tip of his hair to the tread of his boots and took in every single inch of him. Never in my life had I been so star struck before.

He was tall, as I mentioned before, but when he stood before me, hardly an arm's reach away, I realized I had my head leaned back just so I could meet his gaze. He had thick, wavy brown hair that was tucked behind his ears and flipped out naturally on the sides that I found myself wanting so badly to run my fingers through. His upper torso was broad and muscular and his arms were long and strong looking. His legs were long and lean and sturdy. I stopped my examination of his body and tried to focus on his face…which turned out to be more distracting than anything

His lips were pulled to one side in a sympathetic half smile and I saw the glimmer of a well whitened tooth between them. He had a slight five o'clock shadow on his jawline, which was sharp and pronounced. His nose was sharp and triangular. But what caught my breath was his eyes. I had never seen such soulful and expressive eyes. They were hazel colored and heavy lidded under a thick brow and they seemed to stare right through me. The corners of them were slightly squinty and his smile caused little crinkles to spread out from them.

"Sorry about my brother," he said, interrupting my musing. "He's not known for his…cordiality."

Cordiality? Wow, who said things like that? I assumed he was pretty well educated. And the sound of his voice caused little goosebumps to rise on my arms. It was deep, yet smooth and I felt like he could tell you aliens were real and you wouldn't think twice about believing it was true.

"Well," I found myself saying, "He IS rather rude. But I guess I kinda over reacted."

His half smile turned into a real smile and I noticed dimples at the corners of his mouth. He chuckled a little and I felt like I might melt into a puddle.

"Yeah," he nodded, "I was really hoping you would take a swing at him."

"Why?"

"Well, sometimes he needs to be taken down a peg."

I laughed and felt my shoulders relax a little, the anger fading quickly. After all, if he hadn't almost hit me I would have drove off and never had the opportunity of seeing this beautiful sight.

"I'm Sam, by the way, Sam Winchester."

Wow, even his name was sexy.

"Elizabeth Turner. But I prefer Beth."

"Elizabeth Turner? Like from Pirates of the Caribbean?" Sam teased.

"Please," I rolled my eyes, "As if I haven't heard that a million times. Why do you think I prefer Beth."

He nodded and I shifted uncomfortably as his eyes took in my appearance. They stopped to rest on my chest and I rolled my eyes. Typical.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, his expression was now very different from before. He looked surprised and very serious. I looked down and realized he was talking about my necklace charm.

"Oh," I felt bad for thinking he was a perv and took the pentagon charm between my fingers. What could I tell him? That it was an anti-demon possession charm? "Um…my best friend gave it to me for my birthday last year."

He looked at me with a calculating gaze, as if he was trying to read the truth in my eyes. He nodded slowly and ran a hand through his hair.

"You, uh…you know what that symbol means?" he asked.

"Well most people think it's a Satanist symbol," I responded honestly, "But it's actually a protection symbol. To ward off demonic possession."

He stared at me for a moment then he glanced behind me at my truck. His head cocked to the side slightly like a confused puppy and his eyes scanned me from head to toe. He seemed to be debating something in his mind.

"That's uh…that's a big truck you have there," he nodded over my shoulder and I turned to look at my baby. I smiled at his lame attempt to make conversation.

"Yep," I said proudly, "She was my dad's farm truck."

"Your dad's, huh?" he asked, walking towards my truck. My heart jumped a little and I knew I couldn't let him examine it too closely.

"Yeah," I chuckled nervously, following closely behind him. "I, uh, inherited it."

"Yeah?" Sam asked, he looked over his shoulder at me with what I swore was…a knowing look. "How did he die?"

I was taken aback for a moment by his bold question, but I shook my head and thought up a quick lie.

"Farming accident. Combine."

Sam's face scrunched in empathy pain.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, then he turned back to my truck. I wanted to kick myself for the gun rack in my back window and the knife in my console. He was bound to notice those.

But if he did notice them, he didn't say word and he didn't stop to look long. He just made a full circle around the truck and walked back to me.

"The guns in the window are a nice touch," he teased. "So what are you doing in this crap hole motel anyway?"

"Oh, I'm making my way to Oregon to see my sister," I lied. It often made me feel kind of bad at how good I had gotten at pulling lies out of nowhere so easily. "This was just the first place I saw to stop."

"So you're leaving in the middle of the night?" he asked. "Odd time to head out."

"I work the night shift at a bar," I replied with a smile, "My days and nights are a little confused."

Sam laughed and nodded, looking off across the road. But then he looked back at me and the smile was gone, his eyes were serious and burning into mine.

"Let's cut the crap," his voice was no longer teasing or gentle. "You don't work nights at any bar, you don't have a sister in Oregon, and your dad never died in any farming accident."

"Wha…!"

"You're a hunter."

I clamped my mouth shut mid-word and stared at him incredulously. He knew? How did he know? He hadn't even seen my weapons stash or my fake I.D.s!

"How did you know?" I asked, giving up the denial act and letting my indignant shoulders slump.

Sam broke the intense stare and sighed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his Carhartt jacket. He looked down at the ground.

"After being in the business so long, it's not too hard to tell."

The business? IN the business?

"You're a hunter too?" I asked hesitantly.

Sam nodded, his eyes reconnecting with mine.

"Yeah," he said softly, "All my life."

"What's your specialty?" I asked.

"My what?" he got the most adorably confused look on his face.

"Specialty. What do you hunt?" I clarified.

"Uh…everything…" he said with little laugh, "You have a, uh, specialty?"

"I prefer flesh and blood creatures. Werewolves. Windegos. Mostly Strigas."

"Strigas? Ran into one of those once," Sam stated. "Why Strigas?"

I didn't answer. First rule of being a hunter and staying alive: never tell a stranger your life story.

"Hey, I understand if you don't want to talk about it," Sam reassured me, "Believe me, I understand."

I smiled at him gratefully.

"Well," I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. "I'm going to head out. Can't stay in one place too long, ya know?"

"Yeah…I know." Sam looked a little weary as he said this. "Well it was really nice to meet you, Beth. Good luck, wherever you're off to next."

"You too, Sam," I replied, a little disappointed to be leaving. I walked past him and opened my truck door. "I'm actually glad your brother almost hit me. It's always good to remember I'm not the only one out there."

I climbed into my cab and reached to shut the door, but instead of grabbing the handle my hand gripped something warm and firm. I jerked in surprise and realized it was Sam's hand I had grabbed. He was leaning on my door, looking at me sternly.

"Listen to me, Beth," he said seriously, "You watch your back. You really shouldn't be alone out there."

"Don't I know it, Sam Winchester."

Leaving that parking lot, with that man in my rearview, was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**


	3. Midnight Snack

**Chapter Three :D Hope ya'll are enjoying it so far!**

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

Red Lodge, Montana. Rumors of zombie activity had reached my laptop and, of course, I had to investigate. So here I was, flashing my fake U.S. Marshal's badge to the local sheriff so I could go into the house to check out the crime scene of a murdered man. All in a day's work.

"So tell me Marshal, uh…Brooks," the sheriff asked me, his arms crossed. Sheriffs were always miffed by Federal Agents of any kind. "What exactly do the U.S. Marshals have to do with this case?"

"We believe this murder may be the work of a convict who recently escaped from the Montana Women's Prison," I replied without hesitation, tucking my badge into my suit pocket. "She was found guilty of three murders and is believed to have been in the early stages of serial killings. This evidence fits her known style. I was sent to confirm the information."

This must have satisfied him because he stepped aside from the doorway with a roll of his eyes.

The crime scene, to the trained eye of a hunter, was an obvious zombie attack. I noted the plants around the room were dead and shriveled and when I examined the body I noted teeth marks from where the nasty thing had chewed on him. Yummy.

So, it looked like a fun-filled night of zombie hunting was in store.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

I hated this part of zombie hunting. Sneaking around the graveyard at night always gave me the creeps. At least finding a place where a zombie had risen was a simple thing to track.

It took me a short time to find the grave. Alyssa Sebring. Only 19 years old. I shook my head and set my mind to the task ahead. These kind of zombies were never easy to kill because they don't even realize that they ARE monsters! Stupid emotions, sometimes they aren't worth having.

Looked like I would be doing some grave staking soon.

XxXxXxXxXxXx

"Come and get me, you undead little bitch!" I yelled at the hesitant zombie. She was standing there just staring at me with a sickening little half smile. What the heck was she doing? Then I noticed something that made my skin crawl, she wasn't looking at me…she was looking behind me.

That's when I realized the truth, the horrible yet unmistakable truth, I had been luring the Alicia zombie back to her grave so I could stake her to it but it had actually been ME who was lured to the grave. I turned on my heel and came face to face with the half decayed face of a young man I didn't recognize.

"Poop." I muttered. I felt ice cold hands grab my upper arms and sharp pain as I was thrown to the ground.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Freaking zombies," I heard a voice from somewhere beyond my level of consciousness, "I've never heard of zombie bushwhacking before!"

"Dean, she looks pretty bad," another voice, one I thought I recognized from another time and space, spoke up, "We need to get her to a doctor."

_No, no doctors. _My brain was desperately telling me to protest, but somehow I couldn't feel my throat to make it say anything.

"Are you crazy?" the first voice said, sounding a little angry, "We can't do that and you know it. Doctors ask too many questions. They're freaking nosey!"

"Well then we need to get her somewhere where we can help her ourselves," the familiar voice said, sounding slightly panicky.

"I saw an empty house on the way in," the first voice sounded like it was getting further away. "Get her in the car."

That's when my eyes fluttered open for a moment and I found myself looking into worried hazel eyes. _Am I in heaven? _Then I felt my body go weightless as strong arms lifted my anything but tiny body from the ground with ease. Then my eyes dropped shut and I blacked out.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

_Why is it so bright in here? What am I lying on? Why am I so cold?_ Thought after thought flooded my brain as my consciousness slowly came back to me. I heard the sound of rain somewhere to my right. I was lying on something smooth and hard. My head was throbbing.

I blinked rapidly at the offending brightness above me. A ceiling light? Where the heck was I?

"Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence," I heard a voice to my left say. Without a thought, I sat up and reached for my knife. Big mistake.

White hot pain shot through my left arm and I collapsed back onto the table I was laid out on. Holy Mother of crap what was going on?

"Hey, hey! Calm down!" I felt strong hands gripping my wrists to keep me from moving. "You're going to hurt yourself even more."

I looked up into the face of my attacker and gasped.

"YOU! You're that guy from the motel in Wyoming!" I recognized his smug little smile and those green eyes. "What are you doing to me?"

"Beth, it's ok!" I knew that voice.

"Sam?" I turned my head to the doorway of what I was guessing was a kitchen. There he stood in all his beautiful hotness, the one guy I thought I'd never see again.

"Hey," he flashed me a big grin and stepped up next to the table. "How are you feeling?"

I tested my body to give him a genuine answer. I didn't like it.

"My arm hurts like crap and my head feels like it's going to explode," I moaned, positioning my right hand over my eyes.

The first brother whose name I did not yet know clicked off the kitchen light. Huh, who knew he was capable of kindness.

"What happened to me?" I looked up at Sam who was now looming over me from the side of the table.

"Zombies." He stated matter-of-factly. "They tricked you, remember? Then one of them took a nice sized chunk of your arm before we got there."

I glanced at the bandage on my arm and then realized I wasn't wearing a shirt. I blushed bright in the face and ears.

"So, uh, you guys patched me up?" I asked nervously. "Where's my shirt?"

Sam blushed a little too, I noticed. And he held up my shredded blue tank top. Crap, that was my favorite.

"Like I said, zombies."

"Well…thank you," I said honestly, "I…I don't know how I could have been so stupid."

"Well zombies don't exactly do crap like that all the time," the first brother replied, opening a bottle of beer. "How were you suppose to know they were planning on making you their personal Valentine's Day dinner?"

I looked at him with confusion.

"Turns out the zombies were lovers," Sam explained, "When Alicia died Lucas raised her back up. But then he died in a car accident not days later and she found the spell he used to raise her and used it to bring him back. It was a whole new level of twisted."

I shook my head in disbelief.

"So did you stake them?" I asked.

"Like a tent," the other brother said smugly. Then he smiled to himself, obviously enjoying his bad attempt at humor.

Sam shook his head with a slight smile.

"Dean likes to think he's funny," he stated.

Dean. So that was his name. Dean Winchester. Dang, what a good looking pair of brothers. Yes, I noticed as I watched Dean walk to the cupboard and pull down a bag of chips, he was a very good looking man too.

His hair was short and light colored, and spiked up in the front. He sported a leather jacket which showed off his strong shoulders and toned lower abdomen. His nicely shaped legs led up to an even nicer shaped butt. He turned around to lean on the kitchen counter and caught me checking him out and smiled a mischievous smile.

"See anything you like, babe?" he asked with a wink. He had a nice face, I noted with roll of my eyes at his boldness. His eyes were big and bright and a pretty shade of green. His jaw was less pronounced than his brother's but still firm and manly. His nose was a little bumped in the middle like it had been broken before (which it probably had) and I found that rather cute. His lips were full and pouty. Yes, this was indeed a good looking family.

"Dean," Sam said with a scolding tone, "She's recovering."

Dean shrugged and took a drink from his bottle of beer. I sighed and decided to try sitting up a little more carefully. I pulled myself up and felt the warm support of Sam's large hand pressed into my back to help.

"Thanks, Sam," I smiled at him. I threw my legs over the edge of the table but my forearms were gripped in Sam's firm grasp before I could get down. He gently, but firmly refused to let me move off the table.

"Beth," he said cautiously, his eyes full of concern. "Don't try too much at once. You lost a lot of blood."

"I'm fine, Sam," I said breathlessly, taken by surprise by his grip on my arms. "I need to get up and move around a little."

After a few seconds under his calculating stare, he nodded and let me go. I slid off the table and walked around in a small circle to test my strength. I felt pretty good, surprisingly, so I walked to the fridge and opened it.

"I'm starving, guys," I stated, looking sadly at the shelves in the fridge that contained only bottles of cheap beer. "And you have bad taste in alcohol."

Dean looked at me like I was crazy.

"You're not a beer drinker, I take it?" he asked, looking disappointed.

"I only drink Guinness," I replied with a wink.

Dean mulled that over for a second and then made an "Alright, I guess" face.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

I woke up in the middle of the night, my hungry, unsatisfied tummy gurgling loudly. I moaned quietly and rolled out of bed and opened the bedroom door quietly. The door to the room next to me was open and I noticed Dean sprawled out on the bed inside, a beer bottle still in his hand that hung off the side. I smiled and tip toed down the hallway toward the kitchen. As I passed the living room I glanced in and stopped my journey to the kitchen to take in the sight.

Sam was lying on the couch because he had given up his bedroom for me. He was flat on his back with his head propped up on his left arm that was crooked above him. His right arm hung limply off the couch next to him, palm down and long fingers limp in the grip of deep sleep. His left leg was bent up and his right leg lay straight out, he was so tall that, from the mid calf down, it hung off the end. His bangs fell in his face and his mouth was lightly open so I could hear him breathing. He looked so perfect, so peaceful that I could barely tear my eyes away.

After a few more moments, I forced myself to turn away and walk into the kitchen. I opened the cupboard and sighed happily when I saw a bag of wavy potato chips inside. I wondered how long it had been since I had anything to eat but I couldn't calculate how long it had been since the zombie attack. Probably only a day or two.

The salty chips made me decide to break my convictions so I opened the fridge to grab a cheap beer to wash them down. When the fridge light came on, I saw a figure in the doorway out of the corner of my eye.

"Holy…!" I grasped at my chest where my heart was thudding beneath my ribs. Sam Winchester was leaning against the doorframe looking at me with an odd expression. I couldn't explain why but I felt a little shiver of fear creep down my spine under his gaze. "Sam, what are you thinking? You freaked me out creeping on me like that!"

Sam smiled a little half smile, but not the warm kind.

"Well, you're a bit of a creeper yourself," he replied, a knowing look in his eyes. "C'mon, Beth, when you've been a hunter as long as I have, you can tell when you're being watched."

I blushed bright red, thank God it was dark in the kitchen except for the moonlight through the slits in the shades.

"I…I was just…" I lamely searched my tired brain for a good excuse.

Sam pushed off from the doorframe and walked nonchalantly up to me and I'm ashamed to admit I shrunk back a little. But he just grinned and slid past me to open the fridge and grab a beer. He grabbed a box of granola bars out of the cupboard, got one out and set it on the counter then took a seat at the table and motioned for me to join him.

I just bit my bottom lip and perched myself on the counter behind me. Honestly, my reasoning for this was so I could see all of him without the table between us.

"You were stuttering…?" he invited me to continue my explanation.

"I honestly didn't mean to watch you, Sam," I replied, the truth just spilling out as those calculating eyes watched me. They looked black in the moonlight. "I just got…distracted."

He smiled that crooked smile of his and I dropped my eyes to the floor, chiding myself for losing my eloquent speech abilities whenever he came around. It's like my brain shorted out every time!

"So what are you up for?" I tried to change the subject.

"Nightmare." His voice was dark and humorless when he said it and I noticed his eyes shifted away from me.

"Oh…" I searched my mind for some proper reaction but I really haven't had a lot of social interaction in my life and my limited knowledge of emphatic response failed me.

"It's nothing new," he assured me, "It usually just calls for a drink and some clear thinking. Or good company."

Was he referring to me? I didn't think I was capable of being good company.

"Yeah, that would do it," I mumbled lamely.

His gaze suddenly snapped back to me and I jerked a little. God, he looked dangerous in this light! Beautiful and yet frightening.

"Beth, what's wrong?" he asked, interrupting my thoughts about being ravished by his huge self on the kitchen counter. Yes, I admit it, I have a very active imagination.

"Nothing!" I squeaked a little too loudly and a little too quickly.

Sam just cocked his head slightly, his eyes still locked onto mine. He stood up quickly and approached the counter where I sat. I felt my heart start picking up its pace and my legs automatically squeezed together. I gulped slightly when he came to a halt right in front of me, his dark gaze held me paralyzed. He leaned down and my mind started flashing with images of bare skin against sweaty bare skin, large calloused hands running up my thigh, those beautiful eyes rolling back into his head and his deep voice moaning out my name as he…

"Beth?" his voice, low and questioning, sought my attention.

"Mmm?" was all I could manage to get out.

"Can you scoot over so I can open this cupboard?"

My mind cleared instantly. Oh my God, he was just putting the granola bar box back in the freaking cupboard! I glanced at his hand that I had sworn was reaching for me and saw the box in it. I immediately slid off the cupboard and to the side and made for the hallway.

"Hey," he called after me, causing me to stop in my tracks and turn back to look at him guiltily. He was grinning but his eyes were soft and amused once more. "Get some sleep, Beth."

"Yeah, yeah," I said quickly. But I doubted that would be happening any time soon. I had some major cold showering to do.

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

**I'd say there's a little bit of a playful side beginning to show in our Sammy, don't you? Gotta love those Winchester boys **

**Reviews are loved!**


	4. Stitches

**I'm having a writing spree when I should be doing homework…this is not a good thing. But, oh well…**

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

It had been three months now since Montana and the Winchesters and I had teamed up on a few more hunts since then. But it had been about three and a half weeks since I had helped them clean out a Vampire nest in Ohio and I was starting to wonder what they were up to these days. I hadn't heard any reports of monsters in my area for about four days so I decided to head back to my home. Yes, I had a home even though I was rarely there.

As I passed the sign saying "Hannibal: America's Hometown" I sighed in relief. Home, sweet home. I pulled into the driveway of my stilted house just on the bank of the mighty Mississippi River and did a quick sweep of the outside. I whistled sharply and a smile spread across my face as my Irish Setter, Derry, came bounding up to me with his tongue dangling and tail wagging happily.

"Hey, Derry-boy!" I laughed as his tongue reached for my face, "I see Kase took good care of you while mommy was gone."

I walked up the steps of my house and checked for tell-tale signs of break-in before entering the kitchen. Derry and I checked the whole house for possible danger and I finally plopped down on the couch, relief flooding over my tired muscles. Good to be home.

That night I sat out on the porch with Derry, looking out over the water of the Mississippi, watching the barges go by and I felt peaceful for the first time in a long time.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

My eyes shot open at the sound of Derry's growl beside me. My defenses automatically kicked in and I grabbed the sliver knife off my bedside table. Deciding on bare feet for sneaking purposes, I ordered Derry to stay until my signal and crept out of my room into the hall. I hesitated at the top of the stairs and listened. There was no mistaking the sound of footsteps coming from my living room.

I walked carefully down the stairs, sticking to the side by the wall and peeked around the corner into the living room. There was a figure in the shadows near the window, the moonlight streaming in only allowed me to see a silhouette, but I already knew I was no match for whatever it was in a hand-to-hand fight, so I had to make my move now while it didn't suspect a thing.

Silent as a shadow, I slipped around the corner and behind a chair where I psyched myself for the attack. Finally, the figure came past my hiding place and I took the opportunity. With a fierce growl, I lept from behind the chair and plunged the silver blade into whatever brazen creature decided to follow me home. However, my aim for the neck was thrown off by its quick reaction to twist to the side and the silver blade sunk into its chest just under the left clavicle.

I felt the solid muscle of my foe beneath my fingers as I pushed it into the wall. It offered little resistance due to the shock of my attack and its injury. I pulled the knife out and pressed it to the creature's throat.

"What do you want, huh?" I screamed at it, digging the blade slightly into the skin of its neck.

"Beth! Beth, stop!" the voice that came from the creature made me drop my weapon is utter shock.

I reached to the side and flicked the light switch on and felt like vomiting when the room illuminated to reveal a frightened and bleeding Sam Winchester.

"Sam!" I released my hold on the collar of his shirt and backed away quickly, "Oh my God, Sam, I'm so sorry! I almost killed you!"

Sam's wide eyes scanned the room and before I knew what was happening he had grabbed me by the arm and drug me into the kitchen where he pushed me behind him and faced the doorway. At first I was utterly confused until a young, blonde woman walked through the doorway, her black eyes giving away what she truly was. A demon.

Immediately, I pushed out from behind Sam and grabbed my sink's spray hose. I took aim and fired at the demon and grinned as her face sizzled and she stumbled back into the kitchen table. Sam didn't waste the opportunity and was on her in a second. He stabbed her with a knife and her eyes sparked with flames and red light and then her vessel slumped, empty and dead, onto the floor.

We stood there breathing hard for a few seconds, my hands still gripping the sprayer. Sam finally turned to look at me and I noticed he was looking kind of pale.

"Nice one," he said with a weak smile, "Blessed your whole tap system?"

I nodded and let the hose retract back to the sink. Sam nodded slowly and then his eyes closed and he fell forward to his knees, his right hand clutched tight to his chest.

"Sam!" I yelped and knelt down, taking his face in my hands. I slapped his check hard to get his eyes back open and focus. "Sam, lay back. I'm going to have to stop that bleeding quick!"

Luckily, being a hunter and all, I had everything I needed in the kitchen. I grabbed my kit from the top of the cupboards and set the iron tip on the stove to heat up.

I got back down next to Sam who was bleeding badly and moaning in pain. I pressed the clean cloth from my kit onto the deep gouge in his chest and ordered him to keep the pressure on it. He nodded, biting his bottom lip to keep himself silent, and obliged. I grabbed the hot iron off the stove and gripped the material of his button up shirt tightly and ripped it open without thought. I jammed a wad of dish towel into his mouth and I saw his eyes widen in fear before I pressed the hot metal onto his skin.

I cringed at the sizzle of his skin and the pain stricken scream that was muffled by the towel he was biting down on. But it did the trick, the bleeding stopped.

I sat back, emotionally and physically drained and glanced around. There was a lot of blood on the floor and most of it was Sam's. I watched his chest rise and fall rapidly as he lay there panting like he just run a marathon.

"Beth, what the Hell?" he finally gasped.

"I'm so sorry, Sam!" I said sadly, "I didn't know it was you. I'm a hunter, I defend myself."

"I followed that…demon here," Sam stated, his breathing still labored. "She's been...following you since…Nashville."

Last week I had hunted a spirit in Nashville. I glanced at the dead body on my floor and recognized it as the hotel manager I interviewed about the haunting. Damn demons, taking over perfectly nice people.

"Why me?" I asked.

"Because she knows we worked together," Sam's voice was finally starting to sound normal again. "Demons don't really like the Winchester family."

I stood to my feet and offered Sam my hand. He looked up at me with those big hazel eyes with playful accusation.

"Why would I trust you after what you did to me, Turner?" he growled.

I rolled my eyes and he accepted my outstretched hand, although I wasn't any help whatsoever in getting his huge form off the ground. It's the thought that counts, right?

"We need to clean this up," I sighed, looking at the bloody mess that trailed from the kitchen to the living room.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Sam Winchester was sitting on the edge of my bed in all his shirtless glory. Yes, it was true, but not for any reason beyond me giving him stitches.

His hazel eyes bored into my cornflower blues as I knelt next to him. If I hadn't just stabbed him I would probably have jumped his bones right then and there just because of that look he was giving me. It was one of complete trust as I threaded that thick, scary-ass needle with dental floss. Every hunter knew this stitching trick.

"This is gonna hurt," I stated needlessly, mostly just distracting my wandering thoughts.

"Yeah…I know," Sam muttered darkly. I scanned his well toned torso and noted the scars that marked his many years of hunting. He'd been stitched up many times before.

I licked my lips nervously and started the first stitch. I noticed his hand fisted the comforter on my bed so tightly his knuckles turned white. Finally, after eight stitches, I pulled back and examined my handiwork. Sam's grip on the material of the covers lessened and he sighed.

"Thanks, Beth," he said, his voice sounded thin and tired. He was looking at me with those puppy dog eyes of his and they were big and bright with gratitude.

"Sam, just lay back and relax here. Derry and I will take the room down the hall." I tapped my hip and Derry walked to my side.

"I…ok," Sam gave in and fell back with a "flop" onto the bed, his weary face relaxed as sleep overtook his tired and worn out body. I stood there and admired him for a long time. He was truly something beautiful to behold. I lifted his legs onto the bed because he had passed out before he bothered to do so himself and pulled his boots off. I grabbed a blanket from the nearby chair and pulled it over his massive frame. I felt like a twisted version of a nanny because this nanny definitely had an attraction to that boy she had just tucked in.

I sat down next to his sleeping form carefully so I could gather up the extra floss and rags. I placed them all in the trashcan next to the bed and started to stand slowly. But before I could stand up, I felt a large and strong arm snake its way around my waste from behind and I felt breath hot on the back of my neck.

I didn't move. I couldn't move. My heart started thumping wildly and my stomach fluttered crazily. I felt goosebumps rise where Sam's nose nuzzled my shoulder right where it curved into my neck. I gulped loudly on accident in my shock and I felt and heard Sam's chuckle on my right shoulder.

"Beth," he whispered into my ear softly and calmly. "You're something else, you know that? You think after all tonight's events I'm letting you out of my sights?"

I turned my head to look at him. His eyes were sparkling with mischief and teasing but his smile was genuine.

"Stay here, ok?" he stated. His arm around my waist tightened and I felt myself being pulled backwards toward the middle of my king-sized mattress. I felt his other hand grip the front of my thigh and my vision flickered with little bright lights for a moment but he only pulled my lower half back with the rest of me. But then the best thing of all happened, he laid my head in the crook of his left arm and pulled me into him with other. Sam Winchester had just made me his little spoon. Despite how much I wanted to enjoy this moment and never let it end, I felt my eyes growing heavy with sleep and I had drifted off before I knew it.

I never even felt the light kiss he placed on my temple, and I didn't see the smile on his lips as relaxed completely for the first night in a long time.

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxxxXxXxXx**

**I love innocent fluff, don't you? That's all for this day, folks. More to come!**


	5. So Close

**Procrastination makes me want to write! So much to do today, oh and Happy Halloween, by the way!**

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

The first thought that entered my mind was "Why am I on this side of the bed? I sleep on the other side." and then I remembered what had happened last night. But that wasn't real, right? Sam hadn't really killed a demon in my kitchen? I hadn't really stitched him up, had I? And there was no way we had slept in the same bed…was there?

I twisted my head and came face to face with the most beautiful sight I had ever seen: Sam Winchester's sleeping form. He had rolled over and his back was now to me, but I still found my heart thumping happily and excitedly just from the sight of his massive shoulders right next to me.

I don't know what possessed me, but I couldn't help myself! I propped myself onto my elbow and leaned over his shoulder, I called on all the boldness my personality contained and I pressed my lips to his temple. Immediately, his eyes popped open and his head turned to look at me, causing me to shrink back quickly.

"Mmm, good morning," he said groggily, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. Whoever was lucky enough to wake up to that every morning, I envied them.

"G'morning," I said with a nervous shake to my voice. I felt like a complete moron now.

Sam sighed a heavy sigh and rolled over carefully due to his stitches. He was still half asleep, I could tell and so when he pulled me close again I didn't think he realized he was even doing it. I sighed and relaxed into his arms but then I realized there was an obvious difference between now and last night…in fact, between us both. There was definitely a tell-tale warm hardness pressing into the back of my thigh. Automatically, I pulled away from him but was firmly held in place by his arm around my waist and I blushed what I imagined was a bright shade of crimson when my leg accidently brushed against the bulge in his jeans.

"Sam," I whispered sharply, frozen in place.

The only response I got was the tightening of his grip and him pressing himself even closer to me.

"Sam!" I said a little louder, trying not to make any rash moves to jar him awake because that's not an intelligent thing to do with a sleeping hunter. I dug my elbow into his side and he finally inhaled sharply and I felt his grip loosen slightly.

"Mmm," he mumbled and I felt his hand run up my arm, then down then it stopped suddenly. He pulled his top half back from me a little bit to look down at me. "What are you still doing here?"

"What?" I was so confused.

"I figured you'd sneak off as soon as I fell asleep," Sam replied, his voice thick with the remnants of sleep.

"I…uh…didn't want to wake you so I just stayed," I said lamely.

"Right," Sam didn't sound convinced. He didn't let me go either, I noticed.

"Hey, Sam," I said after I cleared my throat, "I should probably get up and take Derry for a walk."

Sam let out a heavy sigh and sunk back down onto his side, taking me in both of his arms this time and pulling me onto his chest. I tried my hardest to avoid the bulk in his jeans as I was moved but I found myself fairly straddling him no matter which way I tried to position myself. I noticed he was smiling at me knowingly.

"Sam Winchester, what wicked things are going through your mind right now?" I accused, giving him a shocked expression. Honestly, I thought he was the shy, moral brother!

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking genuinely confused. "I wasn't thinking anything."

"Sure you weren't," I motioned downward with my eyes and his gaze followed mine to where our hips were connected.

"Oh," he said simply, "Don't flatter yourself, Beth. That happens in the morning sometimes."

And then I felt like a pathetic teenager who had just discovered sex from the talk with her parents. Of course I knew this fact, why had I thought it was anything besides a natural occurrence. Maybe I was trying to flatter myself after all. I mean, really, what would a beautiful man like Samuel Winchester want with a hick farmer's daughter from Missouri?

"Sorry," I said quietly. I pushed myself up and attempted to get off him but he pulled me right back down.

"Hey, Beth, I didn't mean that to sound like it did!" he said, looking very apologetic. His eyes were exceptionally green this morning, I noticed as he stared at me.

"No, Sam, I understand," I replied, "I was just kidding around with you."

Sam finally let his grip on me loosen and I sat up. No, I wasn't really thinking when I did that and I immediately realized I had made a mistake when Sam's eyes closed and he inhaled with a hiss. I felt that bulge underneath me twitch and something in my dirty little mind made me roll my hips forward slightly. I would surely go to Hell for this…

Sam's eyes opened quickly and there was something completely different about his expression, but before I could pin-point the emotion behind it his hand slid up to the back of my neck and pulled my face to his. I felt his lips cover mine with something close to desperation and his fingers moved to tangle into my hair. My mind was shooting off fireworks in my skull at the feel of his mouth working on mine and the slick sensation of his tongue making its way past my hesitant lips.

Oh, God! Oh, God! I had to make this stop or we were going to regret this.

"Sam," I managed to gasp as I twisted my head to the side, "We shouldn't…"

But he gripped my chin between his fingers and turned my face back to his. His eyes were now a much darker shade than I had ever seen on him before and they stared into mine with an intensity I saw only during a hunt with him. I then recognized the expression…the eyes of a predator that had just cornered its prey.

"Beth, do you really want to finish that sentence?" his voice sounded like liquid velvet to my ears and I felt my belly coil up from the vibrations of it that I felt in his chest.

"Sam, I…" truth was I had no idea what was stopping me. I stared down at him and racked my brain for some reason why I should resist. Then I looked down at his shoulder. "I just stitched you up. You should take it easy for a while till that's healed proper."

Sam's dangerous expression faltered for a moment and then he looked down at his shoulder too and sighed. I felt the hand twisted in my hair relax and slide down the back of my neck and the hand on my face let go too.

"You're right," Sam's voice sounded disappointed and the knot in my lower abdomen was screaming at me to shut up and take advantage of this beautiful opportunity. But I rolled off of him and laid back to stare at the ceiling.

Sam's breathing beside me went back to its regular rhythm instead of the quickened, heavy sounds he had been making moments before and I felt a wave of regret pass over me. What the heck did I just turn down?

"Sam," I asked hesitantly, "Was that a one-time offer?"

The bed shook with his a single scoffing laugh and he turned slightly to his side to look at me.

"That's usually the way I work, Beth," he said, honestly. "I think I can tell whether or not I've overstepped the boundaries."

"But…" I started and then clamped my mouth shut to avoid the potentially pathetic statement about how much I wanted him. He looked at me with an odd expression and then got up off the bed. I watched his hulking, shirtless figure disappear through my doorway and I smacked the bed beside me in frustration. What was wrong with me?


	6. Approval

**I was asked to update so here is my next chapter. I may be sacrificing a test grade for you readers, so be happy!**

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

Dean showed up later that afternoon and I was very, very grateful when I heard the roar of the Impala as he drove in my driveway. Things with Sam had been awkward all day and it was getting hard to avoid him. I had done everything I could to stay away from him like walking Derry to Riverview Park…three times, ran to the store, called Kase and dragged the conversation on as long as I could and now I was cleaning my guns on the back porch.

"Dean's here," I heard Sam call from inside. The front door slammed and I heard Dean's voice mix with Sam's as they made their way toward the back door. I looked up and smiled genuinely at Dean who flashed me a dashing, yet goofy smile.

"Hey, Beth," he said happily, "Long time, no see. What've you been hunting lately?"

And so the conversation turned to what we had all been doing the last month while we were apart and everything seemed easy again. But time passed quickly and I put away my guns in favor of making us all some dinner. I will admit; I'm a good cook.

I was leaning down to look in the oven when I felt a presence behind me and I jerked around and came face to face with Sam.

"Sam, holy crap! Don't sneak up on me like that!" I yelped, "How does a guy your size be that quiet anyway?"

Sam just smiled. And it was an honest, normal smile.

"Beth, are you avoiding me?"

"What? No! Why would I avoid you?" I squeaked. I turned back to the stove to stir the stew I had on.

"C'mon," Sam's voice sounded a little weary. "You haven't said more than ten words to me since this morning. Really, are you that pissed at me?"

"Hey, Sammy, back up off the cook. I don't want sex juices in my dinner."

Saved by the Dean! Sam backed away from me quickly and shot a glare at Dean that could kill. I laughed in relief at Dean's presence and started setting the table.

"Sam, can you come help me get some stuff from the Impala?" Dean's voice held a hint of sarcasm in it.

"Sure, Dean," Sam's voice sounded disappointed and I turned to watch them disappear through the door.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

DEAN'S POV

I leaned against my baby and faced Sam. He was so pathetic sometimes. Good thing he had me, the older, less inhibited, brother to help him out at times like this.

"Sam," I started, "Are you going to sack up and sleep with that girl or are you just going to keep putting it off like a little wimp?"

Sam's face took on that look of utter shock at my blunt question.

"Dean!" he chided me, shaking his head and avoiding eye contact. Yeah, I hit the nail right in the head and I knew it.

"C'mon, Sammy, it doesn't take a genius to see you want her," I kept pushing the issue. "It doesn't take one to know she wants you right back either."

At this, Sam's head came up and he looked at me like a deer in the headlights.

"What?" he asked, looking…dare I say, hopeful?

"You really are that ignorant?" I asked, "Sometimes I wonder how we're related…"

"Dean…"

"Sam did you see her in there?" I questioned, pointing at the kitchen window for emphasis, "She was practically about to pass out just because you were in the same room."

Sam's expression changed to slight amusement.

"I can explain that, Dean," he said with a slight shake of his head. "Not only that, I can shoot your little theory down."

Sam told me about that morning's events and I was laughing by the end of it. How could he be so naïve after growing up with me?

"Sam," I clapped him on the shoulder, "You just let your moment slip past. She totally wanted you and you hesitated way too long. Not to mention you insulted her with your whole 'don't flatter yourself' line. You're pretty thick sometimes, you know that?"

"Dean, she was shaking…"

"That's a GOOD sign, Sam," I interrupted, "Sam, if you don't get in that house right now and make passionate love to that girl, I'll disown you!"

"Dean, stop it," Sam's pride was flaring up and I knew it. He hated being treated like he didn't know what he was doing…which he didn't, apparently. "I'm not sleeping with her just because you think everyone is as much of an animal as you!"

"You mean you're not going to sleep with her because you're a dickless wimp?" Harsh, yes…but it usually took blunt words to make Sam see reason.

Sam's eyes squinted in a mix of anger and confusion. Then he turned away and walked back into the house. I smiled and slipped into the Impala. I was planning on making myself scarce tonight. Surely Hannibal, Missouri had a few lovely ladies who were looking for a good time.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

BETH'S POV

The front door slammed so I guessed the boys had talked out whatever issue they had. I turned to ask if everything was alright between them and found Sam standing in the doorway.

"Hey, Sam is everything alright?" I asked. I couldn't read his expression, but he looked conflicted about something. I walked over to him and gripped his forearm and looked up at him with concern. "What did Dean say?"

He chuckled and looked away out the window and I took a step back, assuming he didn't want to talk about it. But then his eyes snapped back to mine and he took a step forward, his imposing height made me retreat even more.

"What's wrong, Beth?" he asked quietly, his eyes squinting in concern.

"Nothing," I replied, "You're just…really big."

He seemed to find this amusing and took another step towards me. He was looking at my face with a calculating gaze as if he was debating something in his mind.

"Sam…what are you…?"

My sentence was cut short when Sam suddenly grabbed my shoulders and pushed my back against the refrigerator. I lost my breath from the force of the collision with the fridge combined with the weight of his body pressed tight against me.

"You want to know what Dean said?" he whispered in my ear, the feel of his hot breath on the skin of my ear made me shiver and I nodded slightly. "He told me to man up. Told me to finish what we started this morning."

"Sam…" I whispered nervously, but he put his finger to my lips and I fell silent.

"And believe me, Beth," he continued, "I want to."

And I knew he wasn't kidding because I felt the hard evidence pressed against my hip.

"Then what are you waiting for?" I asked breathlessly. I brought my hands up to his chest and fiddled with the buttons on his shirt.

"Your approval," Sam replied softly. He pressed his forehead to mine and stared into my eyes.

"Sam, I approved the moment I met you," I said confidently. To show him I meant it I bucked my hips forward slightly and smiled as his eyes fluttered closed.

All inhibitions aside, Sam's lips claimed mine with a force I had never experienced in my life. His right hand tangled into the hair on the back of my neck and pulled me forward and his left hand hooked under my thigh and lifted me off my feet. I wrapped my legs around his waist and reveled in the feel of his toned chest under my hands as I undid his shirt buttons as quick as my shaking fingers could manage. His lips moved from my mouth to trail down my jaw to my neck where I felt his teeth nip my sensitive skin just below my ear.

Sam backed out of the kitchen and felt blindly behind him for the stair rail and began to walk backwards up it, never once breaking his attention on my neck and jaw. He tripped slightly on the top step and I giggled into his chest as he swore quietly into my neck.

He kicked open my bedroom door and finally broke the assault on my ears and jaw to lay me gently, tenderly on the bed. He looked down at me with a soft expression that I had never before seen on his face and it made my already fluttering tummy twist in an oh-so-good kind of way. I reached up for him and he gladly lowered himself over me and kissed me passionately like something I imagine would belong in an old, black and white romance movie. His tongue slid expertly through my parted lips and I decided the taste of Sam Winchester was a rare and exquisite delicacy that I was surely becoming addicted to. His rough hands, calloused from all the grave digging he and Dean did, caressed me with a tenderness I didn't know he could be capable of and I let out a small moan as his right hand slid up my thigh and pressed firmly between my legs. I felt a wet warmth spread through the cotton of my bikini cuts and realized just how much he was effecting me.

I pushed at his chest and he rolled off me with a questioning look. I smiled impishly at him as I quickly undid the buttons of my jeans and slid them off along with my camouflaged underwear. Sam eyed them at the foot of the bed with a smirk.

"Should've known," he laughed, kicking my discarded clothes off the bed. He straddled my hips and slid his fingers under the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it quickly over my head, his eyes roamed freely over my chest and he bent over to press a kiss in the valley between my breasts. I didn't even realize he had taken my bra of until he sat up again.

"Sam, this is hardly fair," I whined. "I think you should lose a few layers too."

Happy to oblige, Sam discarded his now fully unbuttoned shirt and tossed it carelessly behind him. He reached for his jeans but I beat him to it. I had those jeans off him before you could say "rock salt" and he looked impressed. I reached for the hem of his boxers but he took my wrists tightly in his hand and pulled them up above my head.

"Let's not jump the gun," he said huskily, his half smile made my heart skip a beat. He took his time exploring every inch of my torso, chest, and face with his lips, hands, teeth, eyes and tongue. His hands were getting lower and lower as he kissed his way down my stomach. I gasped and arched my back when his right hand slid between my legs and pressed into me. His grin was triumphant and I wanted so badly to touch him but he held my wrists fast above me with one ridiculously strong hand.

He ran his middle finger down my core, testing the wetness present there before he slid it inside me with a sly smile. I wiggled my hips up as much as I could to meet him halfway and he slipped another finger inside quickly. And that's when I started seeing stars. He curled his fingers deep inside me and pushed the tips of them toward my bellybutton, causing white hot burst of pleasure to shoot though my nerves. His eyes never left mine while he worked mercilessly and expertly with those long, beautiful fingers of his and I found his gaze made me feel so much more than I normally would have.

Suddenly, he pulled his hand back and I was left feeling extremely empty. I let my head roll back and my eyes close at the sudden lack of activity.

"God, Sam," I sighed happily, "If that's what you can do with your fingers…"

The sound of Sam's deep laugh made me smile and I noticed his grip on my wrists disappear. I opened my eyes and found him dropping his boxers to the floor next to the bed. Automatically my eyes were drawn downward and I inhaled sharply as they roughly measured the length of him. Not only was he longer than any man I had ever been with, he was all around bigger in ever respect. I gulped slightly at the thought of what was coming.

"If you're not sure…" Sam, always the gentleman, was giving me the chance to back out. But I met his eyes with fierce determination and finally grabbed the back of his hair like I had been longing to do since he pinned my wrists up and yanked him down to me.

"Sam, I've never been so sure," I growled in his ear.

And it hurt. God, did it sting for a moment or two as the muscles inside me tried to get use to the presence of him. His first thrust in was quick and deep and then he held there for what seemed an eternity. He kissed the tears from the corners of my eyes as he waited for the pain to pass. I guessed he was use to this.

"You ok, Beth?" he whispered gruffly into my ear, the effort of holding himself back showing in his voice.

"Yes," I squeaked. The pain was starting to fade and I could feel my muscles making way for him to continue. He pulled back slowly and pushed back in just as painfully slow, checking my face the whole time for signs of discomfort. When I nodded my approval he picked up the pace little by little until I was placing my hands above my head to avoid banging it on the headboard.

"God, Sam…" I gasped into his ear as he pounded into me, I saw sweat forming on his brow and I decided I could look at this sight all day long. His eyes were closed in concentration and his jaw was clenched tight, the muscles in them rippling. I slid one hand down to feel the muscles in his shoulder working as he held himself above me. He was a work of art, indeed.

Suddenly, my vision started to blacken on the edges and my entire body started to stiffen as the most glorious feeling I had ever felt in my life grew to an unbelievable size in my abdomen. It felt like a coil inside me getting tighter and tighter, the sensation causing my head to fall back, my eyes roll into my skull and my hips to rise impossibly high off the bed. The coil inside me burst suddenly and I couldn't hold back the whimpering moan that slipped from my normally quiet lips.

"Sam. Sam, oh my God." I tried to catch my breath as I came down from the high. Sam had thrown tenderness to the wind at this point and I bit back a yelp as he buried himself deeper than I thought possible and picked up the pace. After a few more out of time thrusts I felt his abdominal muscles clench and shudder and he buried his face into my shoulder as he let himself get claimed by the orgasm that pulsed through him. With a heavy, heavy sigh, he went limp on top of me, the weight of him pressing me deep into the mattress.

I gathered my strength and rolled him off me to the side. I leaned over him with a smile.

"How do you feel, Sammy?" I asked quietly as his eyes blinked back open and he looked up at me.

"Like a limp noodle," he replied sarcasticly. He smiled at me. "Beth…oh man…"

"Don't thank me, Winchester," I dismissed his mumbling, "I know how bad you needed that. Hunting is a stressful job. I'll gladly help you with your stress relief anytime you want."

"I have a lot of stress…" Sam insinuated with a grin.

"And I have a lot of time," I replied with a wink.

He pulled me to his chest with a laugh and, before I knew it, I was asleep.

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

**There you go! Hope that was yummy enough for you smut lovers out there. **


	7. Werewolf?

**Ok, sorry this took so long to update, but I had some serious homework to do. And a day of clinical at the Nursing home…oh the stressful life of a Nursing student.**

**So anyway, the story continues!**

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

Somehow, Sam, Dean and I managed to have a whole three days to ourselves before we had another job.

Dean came into the house and slammed the door behind him. He strode into the living room where I was patching up a pair of my cargo pants and clicked the TV on.

"Look," he stated simply, pointing at the screen with his boot as he plopped onto the couch next to me.

There was a young female reporter on the screen and she looked like she was going to be sick as she rambled on about "the unspeakable horror" and "grisly scene" behind her. The camera shifted and zoomed in behind the reporter and my stomach twisted. There, on the floor of what appeared to be a bedroom, was a body covered by a sheet but there was no mistaking the red pool around it and the red splatter on the wall behind it.

"The body was found early this morning by the husband who had just returned home from his late shift at work," the reporter was saying, her voice sounding slightly choked. "He reported to the police his wife was "shredded". Police on the scene have told us the strangest thing about this murder is that the heart of the victim seems to be missing. They aren't releasing any more information at this time."

"Werewolf of Hannibal?" Dean looked at me with a grin and it took me a second to catch his joke.

"Looks like it," I said with a shake of my head and a laugh, despite the horror of the newscast. Dean could always make me smile.

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked, standing up and turning off the TV, "Looks like we've got some investigating to do today."

Sam walked in at that very moment, toweling off his hair from the shower he just got out of.

"Speak of the Devil," Dean quipped.

For a moment, or maybe I imagined it, Sam's eyes darkened and he shot a glare so deadly at Dean that I was surprised when Dean's head didn't explode! But just as soon as it had been there, the expression was gone and Sam smiled.

"You guys talking about me, huh?" he asked smugly.

"Look at this," I said, clicking the TV back on. Sam sat next to me and I caught his clean, fresh from the shower scent and my head spun a little.

Sam watched the TV in silence, his brow furrowing into the adorable worried look I saw him get whenever something like this happened. I guess he saw enough because he turned the TV off and leaned back.

"Werewolf, huh?" he muttered. There was something in his voice I couldn't quite put my finger on…a little hint of sadness?

"Yep," Dean replied, propping his feet up on my coffee table. "Wanna go check it out?"

"Of course!" I said excitedly, I wasn't one to avoid a challenge! "C'mon, let's get ready."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

I straightened my black tie and ran my hands down the legs of my black pants. The mirror revealed me in my FBI suit that I always kept handy for times like this. I tucked my fake badge in my pocket and walked out of the room to check on Sam and Dean's progress.

They were both ready to go, looking snazzy and highly attractive in their suits as well. I never got tired of seeing them in these clothes.

"Alright," Dean said, giving himself a wink in the mirror, "Let's go see what there is to see."

We piled into the Impala; my old truck wasn't exactly FBI material, and drove out to Highway 79. There was a small town just outside of Hannibal called Monkey Run and, as we turned onto the familiar creepy road into the town, I wasn't surprised a werewolf would be here. The locals all said the town was haunted and anyone who happened to find it, hidden away off the road, would probably have to agree. On one side of the road in is a sheer rock face and on the other is a drop into a swamp-like creek, then there's an old, abandoned, stilted house and the town is just ahead. Lots of dogs running about, very few people are ever in their yards or on the dirt roads of the village. It's like a ghost town.

Today, however, there are people everywhere. News vans, police cars and random people looking for some entertainment all crowded around a white house with a yard full of Mary statues and various lawn ornaments. Apparently, this woman's plaster saints hadn't protected her like she thought they would.

We all got out of the Impala and walked confidently up to, and under, the crime scene tape and approached the policeman who seemed to be in charge.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" the cop, young and self-important looking, snapped at us as we approached.

Dean and Sam pulled out their badges and flipped them open at the same time.

"I'm Agent Scholz, this is Agent DeCarlo," Dean stated, he nodded at me, "This is our trainee, Agent Tucker."

I flashed my badge and the cop looked at it for a time, pretending to know what he was looking for. He finally stepped back with a roll of his eyes and let us inside.

"Agent Tucker?" Sam asked me as we walked up the stairs.

"Tanya Tucker?" I asked, receiving only blank looks from both of them, "The country singer?"

"Your aliases are country singers?" Dean asked with his eyebrow raised in amusement.

"You have your ways, I have mine."

We reached the top of the stairs and passed a cameraman who was reviewing his pictures and he shot us a smile as he went down the stairs. You have to be a little sick to have smile on your face after seeing such a grisly scene as what we walked into.

There was blood EVERYWHERE, and that is no exaggeration. The walls, the bed, the window, the door and every piece of furniture in the room were splattered in varying amounts of sticky, dark red blood. I shook my head in disgust as I walked carefully around the pool that had leaked from the sheeted body on the floor, pulled on some sterile gloves and began investigating the sheets on the bed for signs of werewolf activity. Sam pulled out the EMF and started scanning the room. Dean lifted the sheet from the body and started searching for evidence there.

I was perplexed by the crime scene. So far, all the signs looked exactly like a werewolf attack, the room was completely overturned as if a frenzied fight occurred; the amount of blood was concurrent with someone being torn apart and the body's heart was missing, but I hadn't found prints, hairs, not even a fingernail piece. Werewolves tended to leave pieces of themselves behind during their attacks, and they definitely didn't clean up after themselves when their attack was over.

Sam pocketed his EMF with a negative shake of his head and Dean stood up from leaning over the body with a confused look on his face.

"No EMF readings at all," Sam reported, "Definitely not spirit activity."

"Not a speck of nothing on the bed or the door or the windowsill," I stated, snapping my gloves off and pitching them out the window.

"I didn't find any hair or nothin' on Mrs. Rawhide over there," Dean said with a jerk of his head toward the body on the floor, "Only thing is, she's torn apart like normal and her heart was ripped out which is also very usual."

Sam pulled out a camera and snapped some shots of the body, the bed and random spots around the room and we decided to review at the local bar because Dean said he couldn't think on a clean liver.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Doesn't make any sense," I complained as I sipped on my Irish coffee. "What else could do this but a werewolf?"

"No clue," Sam said, sounding disappointed as well, "Nothing we've ever seen before, apparently."

"Should we call Bobby?" I asked Dean.

"Not just yet," Dean said, taking a swig of his beer, "Bobby's a busy man and I think we're big enough kids to solve a little problem like a werewolf...thing."

Normally I would agree with Dean in this respect, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something we missed.

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

**O.o What could this monster be? Keep posted for further chapters!**


	8. Rakshasa

**Next chapter I'm writing this because I'm waiting patiently for my boyfriend to wake up and come over…I find myself with time on my hands.**

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

I woke up to the sound of a knock on my door. My eyes fluttered open and I grinned at the sight of Sam's bare torso at my side. Suddenly, the door swung open and I clutched the covers up to my chin, Sam jerked awake and grabbed a knife from under the pillow but we both stared at a grinning Dean in the doorway.

"I'm feeling a little left out," Dean stated with a wink at Sam.

"Dean!" I snapped angrily, "You can't just barge in here!"

"I knocked," Dean replied with a shrug, "Point is, you both may want to see the news this morning."

Sam and I exchanged confused glances and Dean backed out and shut the door, grin still plastered on his face.

When Sam and I came downstairs, Dean was eating a plateful of bacon and sucking down a mug of black coffee on the couch, his eyes focused on the TV.

"What's up, Dean?" Sam asked, sleep still present in his voice, making it gruff and deeper than normal.

"Looks like a…" Dean made that 'I'm trying to pull it out of my ass, but even I don't believe it" face ', "Man, if I didn't know better I'd say a rakshasa."

I cocked my head to the side.

"What the hell is a rakshasa?" I asked.

Sam looked nervous. Sam? Nervous?

"Please tell me it's a different form than the last one…" he muttered.

"Uh, boys?" I questioned as I sat next to Dean. "Please explain."

"It's a creature from Hindu mythology," Sam started explaining, "They're very rare and they only show up every twenty to thirty years to feed. The worst thing about them is that they can take human form and turn invisible at will."

"Last one we dealt with was a clown," Dean said with a grin. Sam shot a death glare at his brother.

"Oh geez," I said, my voice raised an octave. "I HATE clowns!"

Sam and Dean both looked at me in shock. Dean looked surprised, Sam looked pleased.

"See, Dean?" Sam said, crossing his arms, "I told you, they're scary."

"So…where do we look for this…rakashaka?" I asked.

"Rakshasa." Dean corrected, "And right here. It happened last night here in Hannibal. Country Club Drive."

XxXxXxXxXx

We split up for this one. Dean went to the house to get a look around while Sam and I went to talk to the daughter of the couple killed by the…rakashakasa….thing.

I expected a young child, but when we walked into the room at the White Oaks Counseling Center we were introduced to a girl who appeared to be around sixteen years old.

She was sitting on her bed with her knees pulled to her chest, she was looking out the window and avoiding all eye contact as her nurse tried to get her to respond. I assured the nurse that we could handle it from this point and thanked her as I closed the door behind her when she left.

"Hello, Abigail," Sam started right away, he didn't look surprised by her age. "My name is Sam Winchester and this is my friend Beth Turner."

Abigail's eyes remained glued to the window, but I saw her head nod slightly. She was listening. Sam set chair beside the bed, angled toward Abigail and sat down. He leaned forward slightly and the look on his face was so honest and sympathetic that I wondered how Abigail managed to ignore him.

"We heard about what happened to your parents…"Sam started.

"It was my fault." A tiny whisper from the girl on the bed.

"No," I said quickly, squatting in front of her, "Abigail, we know that's not true."

"You don't know what happened," Abigail whispered again, "No one does."

Sam leaned back for a second and looked thoughtful for a second before he leaned back in and placed a large hand on the now sobbing girl's shoulder.

"Someone came to your door, didn't they, Abigail?" he asked quietly.

Abigail stopped crying and her gaze shifted suddenly from the window to Sam's eyes. She looked frightened.

"How did you…?"

"It's my job to know these things," Sam assured her, "Who came to the door?"

"A police officer," Abigail said, sounding like she was going to cry again, "He asked me if he could come in and speak to my parents."

"And you let him in?" Sam asked, his eyes urging her to tell the truth.

"Yes," Abigail whispered, sounding horrified. "I was leaving for school. I didn't even think twice, I just told him to go inside and they were the kitchen."

She burst into deep, shaking sobs and I took her hands in mine and tried to calm her down by rubbing her arms comfortingly.

"Abigail," I said darkly, "I promise, we'll find him."

She looked at me from under the curtain of her hair and she nodded. She gave us all the description she could of the physical appearance of the cop and his voice. Sam and I left with the knowledge of it honestly being a rakshasa in our minds.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Back at my house, Sam, Dean and I discussed the rakshasa case. Dean hadn't found anything at the crime scene to suggest a rakshasa or to track it, but Sam and I assured him it had to have been since it had to be invited into the house. Our only other choice was specific types of demons who also had to be invited in.

"This is driving me crazy!" Dean complained, "We still have that werewolf to get and now a rakshasa on top of it all…I need a drink."

He got up and went to the kitchen to grab a beer.

Sam ran his right hand through his hair and sighed.

"This makes me wonder what's going on in this town," he muttered, "Has Hannibal had a lot of this activity before?"

"Ghost activity is common," I replied, "People claim to see Mark Twain a lot and sometimes Molly Brown…but I don't have the heart to hunt them down."

Sam broke into deep laughter and pulled me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me and kissing the top of my head.

"You're too soft for your own good," he said, leaning back to look me in the eyes, "Dean and I killed Ghandi and Paris Hilton once."

I was utterly confused and it must have shown on my face because he laughed again and told me the story of the wax museum and the god they had beheaded there.

Dean came back in and rolled his eyes at our close proximity.

"Geez, you two," he said with a shake of his head, "Get a damn room."

"You know?" Sam winked at me, "I am a little stressed, Beth."

Remembering my "stress relief" offer, I grinned wickedly and took off up the stairs with Sam hot on my tail.

"I guess I'll be down here doing all the WORK!" Dean hollered after us, the amusement obvious in his voice…but mostly annoyance.

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

**This was a little rushed, I know. But I promise the next chapter will be better planned out! **


End file.
